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When it comes to cool jobs, Charlotte Jones definitely has one of them. At least by her standards. Even cooler, though, is that she’s had this dream job for the last sixteen years now — being a private flight attendant for Tony Stark. Or rather, that’s how the job started. Over more recent years, Pepper Potts had become the frequent flyer she catered to most.
Not many people could say they had a job that really grew through life with them the way hers had.
When she’d first been hired all that time ago, she’d just turned twenty-two years old and was in what she thought, at the time, was her prime. Working for thirty one year old bachelor Tony Stark had been the dream. She got paid well, he was nice, flirty, handsome, and fun. She got to travel all over the world because that man was always going somewhere. The plane itself was easily the highest-tech aircraft on the market too, all tricked out by Stark himself in ways the FAA probably didn’t even know about. Back then, every flight felt a little bit like taking a giant risk. Exhausting sometimes, sure, but exciting too.
Now that she’s thirty-eight and fully living out the cool rich aunt era of her life, working mostly for Pepper Potts is significantly mellower than her earliest years on the job.
Even on the occasions where Mr. Stark joins them, he’s a hell of a lot tamer than he used to be.
She still gets to travel to incredible places, of course, and Miss Potts is genuinely one of the best bosses she’s ever had. Organized. Kind. Actually says thank you to staff. Remembers birthdays. The woman once noticed Charlotte had switched shampoos because she’d mentioned her old one dried out her curls. Terrifying level of observational skills.
The flights themselves are easier these days too.
Half the time, they’re allowed to wear black athleisure instead of the more polished uniforms so long as no business associates are onboard. Those flights are Charlotte’s favorite because they usually mean one of two things: either Miss Potts is traveling mostly alone — assistant included, obviously — and the cabin settles into a quiet and relaxed room, or she’s flying with Mr. Stark or Colonel Rhodes. Both men Charlotte genuinely enjoys these days in a completely different way than she had at twenty-two.
Because at twenty-two year old Charlotte absolutely adored partying with Tony Stark at thirty thousand feet in the air. She and Rhodey had once taken tequila shots in the galley at two in the morning over the Atlantic while Tony tried to explain why European chocolate “fundamentally understood joy better than American chocolate.” Though, if any former supervisor ever asked, no they absolutely did not.
Now, however, Charlotte likes her sleep schedule too much to survive Playboy Tony Stark multiple times a week. Colonel Rhodes had never been quite as chaotic, but Tony had a way of dragging everyone into his orbit eventually.
She seldom sees Mr. Stark these days, though.
Ever since becoming Iron Man, apparently it became “more efficient” to just fly himself places in the suit for shorter trips. Once the Avengers and the quinjet entered the picture, there became even less reason for him to use Stark Air at all. Nowadays he usually only appears on flights for international meetings or extended travel, and even then he mostly spends the whole flight asleep on the couch or muttering things at holograms only he understands.
Which is why Charlotte is genuinely surprised as she stands on the tarmac beside the other flight attendant, Sammy, watching the black SUV pull up.
Not only does Pepper Potts step out.
Tony Stark follows.
And then —
A kid.
Well.
Not exactly a kid-kid.
A teenager.
Everyone in the world knows Tony Stark became a father. The media had practically combusted over it for weeks. Every person Charlotte knew who’d ever found out where she worked suddenly became incredibly interested in her life.
What’s the kid like?
How old is he?
Is he really adopted?
Does he look like Tony?
Have you met him?
As if Charlotte would willingly give up information like that even if she did know anything.
Newsflash: she didn’t.
And even if she had, she enjoyed remaining employed.
Several former Stark Air attendants had lost their jobs over the years for leaking information they absolutely were not supposed to leak. Charlotte refused to become one of them. Honestly, between her and Sammy, they were pretty much the only flight attendants who’d survived the transition from Old Tony Stark to Pepper Potts Era Stark Industries.
“Miss Potts. Mr. Stark,” Charlotte greets warmly as they approach.
Then her attention shifts to the teenager tucked quietly beside Tony.
“I presume this is also Mr. Stark?” she asks with an easy smile.
“Parker-Stark, technically,” Pepper corrects smoothly. “But yes, this is Peter.”
Ah.
So this is him.
Despite the warm summer afternoon, the boy is absolutely swallowed in an oversized MIT hoodie and Hello Kitty pajama pants. The sleeves hang well past his fingertips and he’s tucked halfway into Tony’s side like he’s trying not to be perceived too heavily. His hood casts a shadow over most of his face, though Charlotte can still make out flushed cheeks and tired eyes beneath it.
He looks younger than she expected.
Fourteen, maybe fifteen.
And vaguely familiar somehow, though she can’t place why.
“Good afternoon, Miss —” the boy starts, voice rough and gravelly before trailing off.
“You can call me Charlie, Mr. Parker-Stark,” Charlotte says gently.
“— Miss Charlie,” he corrects awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Just Peter is fine.”
His voice sounds a little less gravelly after clearing it, but Charlotte still notices the way he shivers once. Then again a couple seconds later.
Maybe he’s sick.
It’s not really her business, but after sixteen years of working on private aircraft, Charlotte has become exceptionally good at noticing when people aren’t feeling well. The flushed cheeks, the throat clearing, the occasional sniffle despite the warm summer air rolling across the tarmac — all signs point in the same direction.
There’s a brief, admittedly selfish moment where annoyance flickers through her. Bringing a sick kid onto a plane isn’t exactly ideal.
Then she remembers this is, in fact, their plane.
And also that there are enough medical-grade masks in the back cabinet to survive a small apocalypse.
“Tony, why don’t you two go get settled in and I’ll talk to them?” Pepper suggests softly, eyes immediately drifting back to Peter.
The look on her face almost catches Charlotte off guard. She’s seen many sides of Pepper Potts: Polished Pepper. Exhausted Pepper. Furious Pepper. But she has never seen her look at someone the way she’s looking at Peter now.
Not even Tony Stark.
“C’mon, kiddo. You heard the woman, up we go,” Tony says quietly, guiding Peter toward the stairs.
And honestly?
Charlotte realizes Tony’s barely acknowledged her or Sammy at all since stepping out of the SUV. His attention has been locked almost entirely on Peter from the second they arrived. Constantly checking him without seeming to realize he’s doing it. Like if he looks away too long, the kid might suddenly collapse.
It’s strangely endearing.
And a little concerning.
“Now, I know you two are the best, which is why I requested you specifically for this trip,” Pepper starts once the boys disappear into the cabin. Her eyes track them until they’re fully inside before she finally looks back at the attendants.
Pepper’s tone shifts almost immediately. Not colder exactly, and not exactly CEO, either. She sounds more like a mother laying down a boundary.
“But with Peter here, I need to reiterate ground rules.”
Charlotte and Sammy both nod.
Charlie isn’t particularly surprised. The Stark family has been unbelievably private about Peter since the news broke. She can only imagine how careful they have to be about who gets access to him. Especially with the media frenzy surrounding Tony becoming a father.
Charlie’s encountered far too many people over the years willing to violate NDAs for a quick payout. Most of them always seem to forget Stark Industries has lawyers capable of ruining lives professionally.
“Anything you see or hear today falls under the legally binding agreements you’ve already signed,” Pepper says evenly. “That includes conversations, medical information, locations, or anything involving Peter specifically. There will most likely be sensitive information discussed during this trip, and the full weight of Stark Industries’ legal team will absolutely come for you if anything leaves this aircraft.”
Well…
There’s the Pepper Potts the board members fear.
“Peter’s had a very difficult last week,” she continues, and for the briefest second something exhausted slips through the cracks in her composure. “He’s recovering from some fairly severe injuries. He also doesn’t do particularly well on planes, so we’d appreciate a little extra gentleness today.”
Charlotte’s stomach twists slightly.
Injuries?
Tony, too, suddenly makes a little more sense now. The hyperfocus. The constant watching.
“Tony’s pretty shaken up,” Pepper admits quietly. “As am I. So just… keep that in mind, please.”
“Of course, Miss Potts,” Sammy says immediately.
Charlotte nods beside her.
“We’ll make sure the flight’s as comfortable as possible,” she assures sincerely.
Pepper smiles faintly at that, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Then she hesitates. Actually hesitates, like she’s deciding how much to say.
“Also…” she starts slowly, “Peter has very good hearing.”
Charlotte blinks once.
Pepper continues carefully.
“So any whispering or side conversations…” Her gaze flicks meaningfully toward the aircraft door. “I’d strongly suggest waiting until you’re off the plane.”
Well…
If that wasn’t ominous as hell.
With that, Miss Potts heads deeper into the plane, leaving Sammy and Charlotte to filter in behind her.
They don’t follow after the woman — Pepper clearly looking for Mr. Stark and Peter somewhere farther inside the aircraft — but Charlotte immediately notices the footrests on the large lounge couch have been pulled up into a makeshift bed configuration. It turns the center seating area into something closer to a giant padded daybed than a couch.
Charlotte moves automatically through the attendant galley, running through preflight checks with muscle memory ease, but she can’t help thinking about how strange this entire trip already feels.
They haven’t even taken off yet and it’s completely different from the old days.
Back then, when Tony Stark boarded the aircraft, they were usually instructed ahead of time to have:
- his favorite whiskey ready
- several rounds of shots prepared
- enough aspirin stocked for the next morning
Nine times out of ten he’d arrive hours late too, sunglasses on indoors, grinning like he hadn’t slept in three days. And he absolutely flirted with everyone.
Harmlessly, of course.
Now?
Zero out of three.
No alcohol.
On time.
And he barely spared either attendant a glance because his entire focus seems magnetically locked onto the teenager currently cocooned somewhere in the middle cabin.
“— a queen-sized bed in the back you can lie down on, buddy.”
Tony’s voice drifts faintly toward the galley.
“I’m okay here,” Peter replies quietly. “Wanna sit with you and Mom.”
Ah. So Pepper adopted him too then.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Charlotte says as she steps into the lounge area. “Just wanted to let you know we’re ready for takeoff whenever you are.”
“We’re just waiting on Happy. He went to park the car,” Pepper says with a tired but polite smile.
Charlotte’s eyes flick briefly to the couch arrangement. Peter is sprawled across both of them. His head rests in Tony’s lap while his legs are stretched over Pepper’s. One of Tony’s hands continuously moves through the boy’s curls absentmindedly while Pepper lightly rubs slow circles against Peter’s shin through the ridiculous Hello Kitty pajama pants.
It’s domestic enough to make Charlotte momentarily forget she’s standing inside a multi-million-dollar aircraft owned by one of the most famous men on Earth.
“Can you grab us a blanket for him?” Tony asks, finally looking at her directly for the first time. “And a couple bottles of water?”
“Of course, Mr. Stark.”
As she turns toward the linen cabinet, she hears Peter mumble:
“Don’t need a blanket.”
“You’re shivering, sweetheart,” Pepper says softly.
“Oh.”
“Cho said this would be part of the recovery process,” Tony explains patiently. “Your nerves are repairing themselves, but they’re still a little fritzed. And you already can’t thermoregulate well, buddy, so we gotta bundle you up.”
Thermoregulate?
Now that is an interesting word choice. And maybe Charlotte takes slightly longer than necessary in the linen closet to try and listen in.
Sue her.
She’s not going to tell anyone what she hears. She’s just… curious.
Because nobody’s really seen the kid publicly with Tony. Nobody even knows Pepper’s exact role in all this. The media mostly just refers to Peter as Tony Stark’s adopted son and leaves it at that.
But this?
This doesn’t feel like “Tony Stark adopted a kid.”
This feels like:
Pepper and Tony as parents.
And the whole thermoregulation thing definitely files itself away in the more questions category. Right along with the nerve damage and the hearing thing Pepper mentioned earlier. Charlotte has absolutely no idea what’s going on there, but she fully intends to Google several medical terms later on her boyfriend’s laptop instead of anything Stark-branded.
She’s curious, not stupid.
By the time she returns with the blanket, Happy Hogan is boarding the aircraft.
He gives Charlotte one quick once-over — more security habit than suspicion — before his attention immediately shifts toward the couch.
“How’s the kid?” he asks.
Charlotte has genuinely never heard Happy Hogan sound that soft before. Still gruff, of course, but less though than any other way she’s seen him.
“Awake and sitting right here,” Peter grumbles without opening his eyes.
“Well, you look asleep,” Happy shrugs, dropping onto the couch opposite them. “You left your burn cream in the backseat. I grabbed it for you.”
At that, Peter finally cracks one eye open long enough to glare at him.
“I left it there on purpose.”
Tony immediately looks down at him, brows furrowing.
“Peter, you need the burn cream.”
“I hate the burn cream,” Peter whines. “It smells bad and it hurts. I have a healing factor and Dr. Cho said I’m fine — she literally cleared us for this trip.”
“She cleared you so long as you kept up the aftercare,” Tony counters immediately. “We still don’t know exactly what that mutated lizard was spewing—”
Pepper clears her throat.
Tony stops mid-sentence.
Four sets of eyes shift toward Charlotte all at once.
Charlotte feels heat immediately crawl up her neck under the sudden realization that she is very much still standing there holding a folded blanket while accidentally overhearing what sounds suspiciously like superhero business.
“I apologize,” she says quickly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Here are the blankets and waters. Can I get anybody anything else before takeoff?”
“I think we’re alright for now, Charlotte. Thank you,” Pepper says graciously.
Tony’s attention has already shifted entirely back to Peter again by the time Charlotte turns away.
“Buddy… listen,” she hears him start softly behind her. “I know you don’t like it and I know it hurts, but—”
She doesn’t hear the rest as she moves toward the front galley where the food and drinks are stocked. Her brain is already too busy trying to connect the dots from everything she’s overheard in the last several minutes.
Charlotte might not be a born-and-raised New Yorker, but after relocating when Tony and Pepper made New York their primary headquarters, she’s lived there long enough to absorb the city’s relationship with its heroes. Even people who don’t care about superheroes still know when something major happens because the entire city feels it.
And four days ago?
The entire world watched Spider-Man get hit with what every news outlet immediately dubbed “acidic venom” from the giant reptilian monster the internet collectively decided to call “Lizardzilla.”
Which — honestly — felt deeply uncreative considering humanity had survived aliens, killer robots, and Norse gods at this point.
That boy curled up between Iron Man and Pepper Potts on the couch?
That’s Spider-Man.
The really good hearing. The burns. The weird thermoregulation comment – though she has no idea what that means still.
Pair those with the fact that Tony Stark looks one mildly raised heartbeat away from physically climbing inside the kid’s ribcage to protect him. It all clicks together so suddenly Charlotte actually pauses mid-step in the galley.
And then another memory surfaces.
Germany.
Happy Hogan escorting a teenage boy in oversized clothes and a hoodie pulled so low over his face she barely registered him at the time. Then Tony joining them on the flight back looking furious and stressed in a way she’d never really seen before.
People online had dissected the leaked airport fight footage frame by frame for months afterward. Grainy flashes of red and blue spandex. A smaller figure swinging through the chaos between Avengers.
Oh my God.
It was him.
“Hey Charlotte? I think we’re all clear for takeoff back here.” Pepper’s voice calling out pulls her abruptly back into the present.
“Of course, Miss Potts.”
She heads toward the cockpit to relay the message to the captain and Sammy.
The first hour and a half of the flight ends up remarkably uneventful.
Happy asks for a Coke. Pepper requests sparkling water with lemon. And that’s it.
There is no deafening music rattling the cabin walls. No liquor cabinet being emptied and drained at an alarming rate. Stark isn’t talking to his holograms and Pepper isn’t on any long and monotonous meetings. No one is demanding one of everything on the menu because “genius metabolism.”
Honestly, it’s the calmest Stark flight Charlotte has ever worked.
By the time cruising altitude settles in fully, she and Sammy are relaxed in the staff quarters just within earshot of the main cabin.
From here Charlotte can hear the muted sound of some sci-fi movie playing. Pepper typing steadily away on a keyboard. The occasional rustle of blankets.
It’s so quiet, domestic almost.
“So the kid is…” Sammy trails off before making exaggerated web-shooting motions with her hands.
Charlotte snorts into her Sprite.
“Yeah.”
She leans slightly to peek toward the cabin opening, though none of them are directly visible from this angle.
“It’s weird seeing Stark like this,” Sammy admits, tearing open a bag of pretzels. “Like… emotionally stable.”
Charlotte laughs softly.
“I know. Could you imagine this six years ago?”
“Absolutely not,” Sammy says, shaking her head with a grin. “This man used to treat international airspace like spring break.”
Charlotte opens her mouth to respond when a phone alarm suddenly cuts through the cabin.
The sound is silenced quickly, followed by the movie abruptly pausing.
Then Tony’s voice drifts toward them. “Alright, kiddo. We gotta reapply cream to the worst of ’em.”
There’s immediate shuffling from the cabin.
Movement.
Blankets rustling.
“I don’t — no, no… please. I don’t,” Peter stumbles over the words quickly.
There’s genuine panic threaded through them now.
“Buddy, I know it hurts, but it’ll help in the long run,” Tony says patiently.
“I feel fine,” Peter whines. “I don’t want the stupid cream.”
“Peter…” Pepper tries softly.
“I don’t want it,” Peter protests again, petulance coating every syllable.
Charlotte exchanges a glance with Sammy.
In sixteen years of working for Tony Stark and nearly a decade around Pepper Potts, Charlotte has never heard anyone just outright refuse them like this.
Not executives. Not assistants. Not board members. Not even Colonel Rhodes most of the time. But then again, none of those people are their kid. And clearly that changes everything.
“So should I be the one to tell May you’re not listening when we land?” Tony asks casually.
Charlotte has no idea who May is, but the silence that follows tells her enough.
Oof.
Apparently May’s disappointment is a legitimate tactical weapon, because —
“Good choice,” Tony says after several quiet seconds. “You want me or Pep to do it?”
There’s another pause.
Then, much quieter:
“Mom… please?”
Something in Charlotte’s chest unexpectedly softens at the hesitant vulnerability in Peter’s voice.
“And I’ll hold you steady,” Tony says immediately.
“Please?”
“You got it, kiddo.”
There’s a brief stretch of silence after that, Sammy and Charlotte exchanging another look. Charlotte assumes they must finally be applying the burn cream.
Except the broken whimper that follows several seconds later makes it painfully obvious they’d only been preparing him for it.
The sounds leaving the kid’s mouth are downright heartbreaking.
It’s so easy to forget the heroes splashed across headlines and social media feeds are actual people underneath the suits. Actual people who bleed and hurt and cry. Sure, people like Captain America and Thor have powers woven into their very beings. Spider-Man clearly does too. But powers apparently don’t spare you from pain. And listening to Peter struggle through the aftermath of acidic venom leaves a strange heaviness in Charlotte’s chest.
Everyone read the story about the family trapped inside the burning ice cream parlor near the Statue of Liberty. The heroic rescue. The devastating injuries Spider-Man took from “Lizardzilla” in the process. The official Avengers statement explaining the young hero would be MIA while recovering.
But the public never sees this part.
They never see the healing. Never hear the muffled sobs. Never see Iron Man trying to comfort a sobbing kid who just wanted to save some lives.
“I know, I know. Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Tony sounds wrecked. Just downright devastated.
Eventually the crying tapers off into shaky breathing. Then the soft rustle of movement takes over as Pepper and Happy emerge from the main cabin and step into the galley area.
Charlotte and Sammy straighten instinctively despite the fact there’s literally nothing for them to be doing right now.
Pepper’s eyes are glassy with tears. She's very clearly trying not to let them fall. She avoids looking directly at either of them as she disappears into the bathroom, probably to wash the burn cream from her hands.
Happy lingers outside the door like a guard dog. His expression softens slightly as he looks toward them.
“Think you could make the kid some hot chocolate and grab snacks?” he asks, clearing his throat roughly. “He likes candy — just no mint. Maybe a couple sandwiches too.”
Another surprise. Charlotte honestly didn’t think Happy Hogan possessed this many visible emotions.
“Of course,” she says quietly, making quick work in the galley of the plane.
With the steaming mug balanced carefully in one hand and a tray of prepackaged sandwiches and snacks in the other, she heads back toward the lounge and immediately pauses.
Tony is sprawled across the couch now, blanket thrown over both himself and Peter. The kid is practically glued to his side, tucked against him with the sort of unconscious closeness her niece and nephew seem to have with her sister when they’re sick.
Peter’s face peeks out from beneath the blankets, flushed and blotchy from crying.
Tony notices her first and offers a tired smile.
“Hey, Pete,” he says softly. “Wanna sit up for some hot chocolate and food? Might help you feel better. Plus we know your healing factor likes food.”
Peter groans weakly beneath the blankets before slowly pushing himself upright. Charlotte notices immediately how careful he moves. Like even shifting too quickly hurts. His hand reaches automatically toward the mug, but Tony intercepts it first.
“Last thing we need is you spilling hot liquid on yourself and making those burns worse,” he says gently.
Peter doesn’t even argue. Which honestly might be the clearest indicator yet of how miserable he feels.
Instead Charlotte hands him the sandwiches and snacks.
“Thank you, Miss Charlotte,” Peter says quietly. “I appreciate it.”
His voice is still rough from the crying.
Charlotte smiles softly.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
The word slips out naturally before she can think too hard about it.
Peter gives her a small smile in return before immediately curling back into Tony’s side with the sandwiches balanced in his lap and hot chocolate tucked between Tony’s hands.
Pepper and Happy drift back into the cabin, reclaiming their places around Peter and Tony like gravity naturally pulls them there.
Charlotte and Sammy mostly stay tucked in the attendant quarters scrolling through their phones and chatting quietly amongst themselves after that until landing procedures begin. And as Charlotte watches the four of them disembark together when they finally touchdown — Happy carrying Peter’s backpack over one shoulder while Tony and Pepper keep protective hands against the boy’s back — she realizes something unexpected.
This might actually be her favorite era of working for Tony Stark.
She would trade every wild party, every luxury trip, every ridiculous drunken adventure, and every moment spent flirting with America’s former most eligible billionaire bachelor just to witness this version of him instead.
Because somehow seeing Tony Stark become somebody’s dad is infinitely cooler than Iron Man ever was.